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rainbowfic2012-02-27 12:09 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2012-02-27 12:09 pm
Snow White #15, Tea Rose #24, Tyrian Purple #6
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Snow White #15 (happily ever after), Tea Rose #24 (nobody minds having what is too good for them), Tyrian Purple #6 (the lying oracle)
Word Count: 1,778
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; No standard warnings apply
Summary: Everyone's dreams go like this.
Merrus's dreams go like this:
He's sitting in a dwelling, a proper salkiy dwelling, with a plate full of white nuts and the flat spiced bread that his mother used to make. As he's eating his breakfast he hears a sound from outside, and that's when the young female salkiy enters.
She's perhaps twelve years old, her short dark hair wavy and curled around the tips of her ears. She has her mother's eyes, though: a bright golden color that matches the strip of hair traveling down her back. Merrus smiles at her and extends his hand, and she takes it, sitting down next to him and in front of her own plate of nuts and bread.
This is when his mate enters, straight brown hair shining with golden highlights in the patch of sun coming through the window. In her arms she carries Merrus's son, a child of only two, and the four of them sit down at the rough-hewn wooden table to eat their breakfast together.
Conversation is light and pleasant; his daughter is among the top students in her age group. His son is learning to talk, and proves more proficient at it every day. His mate talks about her trading successes, and she shows off a pretty leather band she bartered out of a human last week. Merrus admires it and smiles for the thousandth time that his mate understands his appreciation of art.
After breakfast his daughter goes to school, and his mate, his son's chubby fist clasped in her gentle hand, walks to the other side of the village to visit with friends. There won't be another trading trip until the moon has gone through another cycle, so she uses the time in between for pleasant activities.
Merrus himself has become a fisher, just like his father, and in this dream that term doesn't need to be qualified by anything. He is the son of Karrat and no one questions that. Also, in this dream, he does not feel sickness on the boat, and he is as proficient and skilled at catching fish as his father. He's a valuable member of the village, because he helps feed everyone.
At the end of the day he meets up with his mate and his children again, and his mate's parents and siblings visit for dinner. His daughter tells everyone how she mastered a new spell during lessons that day. Everyone smiles and shows their approval, proud of her and happy that she is so fulfilled. They all know it will be the same for Merrus's son, once he is old enough for lessons. Later the children's grandfather takes them aside to tell them stories, and eventually all the adults come to listen, too, because he is the best storyteller in all the village.
In these dreams Merrus's own family, his parents and his sister, never show up.
#
Atro's dreams go like this:
He is usually in bed, and there is usually a beautiful woman beside him, or above him, or underneath him. Throughout his life this woman has taken many forms, sometimes that of a woman he has seen and admired during his waking hours, and sometimes she is nothing but a product of his imagination and libido.
But as his dreams pass the woman changes. She slowly shifts from the voluptuous figure he has always appreciated into a thinner form, with smaller breasts and more muscular legs than he has seen on any woman he has ever been with. Her hair becomes long and dark blond, reaching all the way down her back and forming a curtain enclosing both of them as she straddles his thighs and leans in close for a kiss. Her eyes become a brilliant green, and her smooth skin darkens until he realizes, in the middle of the act, that she is Jay, and that thought makes him climax all the harder.
She never stays, in his dreams, because even dream-Jay is not the type to cuddle and fall asleep in her partner's arms after the act is done. She disappears, perhaps to her own bed, perhaps to another lover. He does not care, because he knows that she will come back to this bed the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that. She is not like the nameless, sometimes imaginary women that featured earlier in his dreams. They are all the same woman, with the same beauty, even if the elements are arranged a little differently. Jay, though, Jay is different, beautiful and fierce and everything he ever wanted in a way that none of the other dreams could even compare to.
There comes a time when his dreams start and end with Jay, and there is never any other woman at all.
When he lays in bed at night, Hopina slumbering peacefully next to him and the weight of the day too slowly sloughing off his shoulders, he always manages to smile. Because he knows that when he closes his eyes, when sleep finally claims him for a few blissful hours where he doesn't have to worry about an entire empire, Jay will be waiting for him.
#
Hopina's dreams go like this:
She is traveling through exotic lands, full of tall grasses and impossibly large flowers while hordes of frightening yet awe-inspiring half-man, half-beasts roam the fields alongside the rutted dirt path her cart is bouncing down.
But she is not scared, because she knows that she cannot be hurt. Beside her, his arm around her, is Edward, and surrounding them in the cart are other people, people Edward has told her about in his stories. There is Porthin, the traveling magician. There is Ana, the warm and friendly Kandelian woman Edward speaks of as fondly as if she is his mother (and perhaps she is; Edward has always kept his past close to his own heart and memories, unwilling to share it with anyone). There is Kyret, the old, grizzled, and fearless merchant whom Edward drank with when he visited Okkand. They are all there, and they have all formed a strange little family, all completely different but united in one purpose and one passion: to see the world and the wonders it holds, to move beyond a father's estate and not straight into a husband's estate.
There is, very occasionally, a dream where Hopina and Edward take their relationship to more intimate levels (the others quietly fading away like polite dream figures), but most of the dreams it is she, Edward, and Edward's friends seeing sights that no one else on any continent has ever seen. In her dreams Edward has been to all of them, so no one is ever in any danger because he has already been once and survived, and he knows how to protect them. Hopina sees the vast ice plains of northern Seena, the great mining operations in that area, gaping holes in the hillsides leading into deep caves where the temperature is like a cool Ceenta Voweiian Spring day all the time, even when a blizzard is howling past on the surface.
She sees the Arkijti desert, the splendor of the kordeshi of the barons, the magnificence of the famous painted roof of the King's palace in Sarachnia, the oranges and yellows and reds of the landscape standing out brilliantly against the deep blue of the sea directly to the south.
She sees the extensive forests of Okkand, where the trees stretch on forever, their trunks so wide it would take the reach of ten men put together to circle them, their tops lost among the clouds, the tips of their branches high enough to touch the gods.
She sees the mountains of the Savage Lands, purple and uncompromising, the fur-clothed Cottock barbarians hunting wild game, bringing down giant wolves and skinning them because they believe wearing animal skins gives them the power of that animal, so they can flit unseen and crafty and sure-of-foot from one rocky cliff to the next, as full of hunting prowess as the wolves from which their coverings came.
She sees the great western sea, and she even sees over it, into Maston and its inhabitants that are half-beasts in the way the Cottocks can only pretend to be. She sees herself traveling, moving among these strange people and these strange lands until she has seen everything Edward has seen and more. Things from his stories, and things she has made up that could never possibly be real.
But she knows they are, somewhere. There is nothing too wonderful for the world, if one travels far enough. That is what Edward has taught her, and that is what, every night, her dreams prove anew.
#
Jay's dreams go like this:
They are always a whirl of color and motion, short, dizzying glimpses of a life that has happened exactly as Jay has always wanted it. Some of these glimpses are scenes from her own past: her training, where she became the best and most skillful in her class; her initiation into the Sun Guard; those heady nights she spent in the Empress's bed. But the glimpses always continue, into the present, into the future. More nights with the Empress, helping her raise her children, selecting the ones who will continue on to become members of the Sun Guard themselves. Becoming the leader of the Sun Guard, gaining the blessing of the ancient Nikolean priestesses, eventually becoming one of them as she enters her own old age, finally dying with a smile on her face because her beloved gods have come along to take her from her weary shell and reward her for the life she has led.
These are impossible images, but in dreams that does not matter.
Sometimes the scenes better reflect reality: she is in Ceenta Voweii, but then the Empress discovers that she is still alive and comes to see her, comes to forgive her for not protecting her as well as Jay had sworn to. Sometimes, in her dreams, she even has glimpses of the afterlife, of the gods, of her reward, of their decision to send her back as another living form instead of casting her out beyond the edges of existence. But she always wakes up before she is born again, and she never remembers those parts of the dreams, anyway.
She never questions why all of her dreams end with her peaceful death at an old age. No warrior can expect a death like that, but she figures that is probably why she dreams it.
#
Anthony's dreams go like this:
Anthony doesn't dream.
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Snow White #15 (happily ever after), Tea Rose #24 (nobody minds having what is too good for them), Tyrian Purple #6 (the lying oracle)
Word Count: 1,778
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; No standard warnings apply
Summary: Everyone's dreams go like this.
Merrus's dreams go like this:
He's sitting in a dwelling, a proper salkiy dwelling, with a plate full of white nuts and the flat spiced bread that his mother used to make. As he's eating his breakfast he hears a sound from outside, and that's when the young female salkiy enters.
She's perhaps twelve years old, her short dark hair wavy and curled around the tips of her ears. She has her mother's eyes, though: a bright golden color that matches the strip of hair traveling down her back. Merrus smiles at her and extends his hand, and she takes it, sitting down next to him and in front of her own plate of nuts and bread.
This is when his mate enters, straight brown hair shining with golden highlights in the patch of sun coming through the window. In her arms she carries Merrus's son, a child of only two, and the four of them sit down at the rough-hewn wooden table to eat their breakfast together.
Conversation is light and pleasant; his daughter is among the top students in her age group. His son is learning to talk, and proves more proficient at it every day. His mate talks about her trading successes, and she shows off a pretty leather band she bartered out of a human last week. Merrus admires it and smiles for the thousandth time that his mate understands his appreciation of art.
After breakfast his daughter goes to school, and his mate, his son's chubby fist clasped in her gentle hand, walks to the other side of the village to visit with friends. There won't be another trading trip until the moon has gone through another cycle, so she uses the time in between for pleasant activities.
Merrus himself has become a fisher, just like his father, and in this dream that term doesn't need to be qualified by anything. He is the son of Karrat and no one questions that. Also, in this dream, he does not feel sickness on the boat, and he is as proficient and skilled at catching fish as his father. He's a valuable member of the village, because he helps feed everyone.
At the end of the day he meets up with his mate and his children again, and his mate's parents and siblings visit for dinner. His daughter tells everyone how she mastered a new spell during lessons that day. Everyone smiles and shows their approval, proud of her and happy that she is so fulfilled. They all know it will be the same for Merrus's son, once he is old enough for lessons. Later the children's grandfather takes them aside to tell them stories, and eventually all the adults come to listen, too, because he is the best storyteller in all the village.
In these dreams Merrus's own family, his parents and his sister, never show up.
#
Atro's dreams go like this:
He is usually in bed, and there is usually a beautiful woman beside him, or above him, or underneath him. Throughout his life this woman has taken many forms, sometimes that of a woman he has seen and admired during his waking hours, and sometimes she is nothing but a product of his imagination and libido.
But as his dreams pass the woman changes. She slowly shifts from the voluptuous figure he has always appreciated into a thinner form, with smaller breasts and more muscular legs than he has seen on any woman he has ever been with. Her hair becomes long and dark blond, reaching all the way down her back and forming a curtain enclosing both of them as she straddles his thighs and leans in close for a kiss. Her eyes become a brilliant green, and her smooth skin darkens until he realizes, in the middle of the act, that she is Jay, and that thought makes him climax all the harder.
She never stays, in his dreams, because even dream-Jay is not the type to cuddle and fall asleep in her partner's arms after the act is done. She disappears, perhaps to her own bed, perhaps to another lover. He does not care, because he knows that she will come back to this bed the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that. She is not like the nameless, sometimes imaginary women that featured earlier in his dreams. They are all the same woman, with the same beauty, even if the elements are arranged a little differently. Jay, though, Jay is different, beautiful and fierce and everything he ever wanted in a way that none of the other dreams could even compare to.
There comes a time when his dreams start and end with Jay, and there is never any other woman at all.
When he lays in bed at night, Hopina slumbering peacefully next to him and the weight of the day too slowly sloughing off his shoulders, he always manages to smile. Because he knows that when he closes his eyes, when sleep finally claims him for a few blissful hours where he doesn't have to worry about an entire empire, Jay will be waiting for him.
#
Hopina's dreams go like this:
She is traveling through exotic lands, full of tall grasses and impossibly large flowers while hordes of frightening yet awe-inspiring half-man, half-beasts roam the fields alongside the rutted dirt path her cart is bouncing down.
But she is not scared, because she knows that she cannot be hurt. Beside her, his arm around her, is Edward, and surrounding them in the cart are other people, people Edward has told her about in his stories. There is Porthin, the traveling magician. There is Ana, the warm and friendly Kandelian woman Edward speaks of as fondly as if she is his mother (and perhaps she is; Edward has always kept his past close to his own heart and memories, unwilling to share it with anyone). There is Kyret, the old, grizzled, and fearless merchant whom Edward drank with when he visited Okkand. They are all there, and they have all formed a strange little family, all completely different but united in one purpose and one passion: to see the world and the wonders it holds, to move beyond a father's estate and not straight into a husband's estate.
There is, very occasionally, a dream where Hopina and Edward take their relationship to more intimate levels (the others quietly fading away like polite dream figures), but most of the dreams it is she, Edward, and Edward's friends seeing sights that no one else on any continent has ever seen. In her dreams Edward has been to all of them, so no one is ever in any danger because he has already been once and survived, and he knows how to protect them. Hopina sees the vast ice plains of northern Seena, the great mining operations in that area, gaping holes in the hillsides leading into deep caves where the temperature is like a cool Ceenta Voweiian Spring day all the time, even when a blizzard is howling past on the surface.
She sees the Arkijti desert, the splendor of the kordeshi of the barons, the magnificence of the famous painted roof of the King's palace in Sarachnia, the oranges and yellows and reds of the landscape standing out brilliantly against the deep blue of the sea directly to the south.
She sees the extensive forests of Okkand, where the trees stretch on forever, their trunks so wide it would take the reach of ten men put together to circle them, their tops lost among the clouds, the tips of their branches high enough to touch the gods.
She sees the mountains of the Savage Lands, purple and uncompromising, the fur-clothed Cottock barbarians hunting wild game, bringing down giant wolves and skinning them because they believe wearing animal skins gives them the power of that animal, so they can flit unseen and crafty and sure-of-foot from one rocky cliff to the next, as full of hunting prowess as the wolves from which their coverings came.
She sees the great western sea, and she even sees over it, into Maston and its inhabitants that are half-beasts in the way the Cottocks can only pretend to be. She sees herself traveling, moving among these strange people and these strange lands until she has seen everything Edward has seen and more. Things from his stories, and things she has made up that could never possibly be real.
But she knows they are, somewhere. There is nothing too wonderful for the world, if one travels far enough. That is what Edward has taught her, and that is what, every night, her dreams prove anew.
#
Jay's dreams go like this:
They are always a whirl of color and motion, short, dizzying glimpses of a life that has happened exactly as Jay has always wanted it. Some of these glimpses are scenes from her own past: her training, where she became the best and most skillful in her class; her initiation into the Sun Guard; those heady nights she spent in the Empress's bed. But the glimpses always continue, into the present, into the future. More nights with the Empress, helping her raise her children, selecting the ones who will continue on to become members of the Sun Guard themselves. Becoming the leader of the Sun Guard, gaining the blessing of the ancient Nikolean priestesses, eventually becoming one of them as she enters her own old age, finally dying with a smile on her face because her beloved gods have come along to take her from her weary shell and reward her for the life she has led.
These are impossible images, but in dreams that does not matter.
Sometimes the scenes better reflect reality: she is in Ceenta Voweii, but then the Empress discovers that she is still alive and comes to see her, comes to forgive her for not protecting her as well as Jay had sworn to. Sometimes, in her dreams, she even has glimpses of the afterlife, of the gods, of her reward, of their decision to send her back as another living form instead of casting her out beyond the edges of existence. But she always wakes up before she is born again, and she never remembers those parts of the dreams, anyway.
She never questions why all of her dreams end with her peaceful death at an old age. No warrior can expect a death like that, but she figures that is probably why she dreams it.
#
Anthony's dreams go like this:
Anthony doesn't dream.
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Thank you for reading!
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